


Myself Keeps Slipping Away

by trucizna



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, M/M, Psychological Torture, Torture, trigger warnings for PTSD, trigger warnings for eating disorders, trigger warnings for panic disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:17:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trucizna/pseuds/trucizna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk is captured and used as leverage by Khan against an increasingly desperate Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If Flesh Could Crawl

* * *

**PART ONE**

_If Flesh Could Crawl_

******  
  
**

_Nothing that you say will release you_

_Nothing that you pray will forgive you_

_Nothing's what your words mean to me_

_**** _

_Something that you did will destroy me_

_Something that you said will stay with me_

_Long after you're dead and gone_

_**** _

_I wish, I wish_

_**** _

_Take it back, I dare you, take it back_

_No you can't, you should have thought of that_

_What's inside a man that's goes so wrong?_

_**** _

_Choke on guilt that's far too good for you_

_Say one word, I'll laugh and bury you_

_Leave you in the place where you left me_

_**** _

_If flesh could crawl, my skin would fall_

_From off my bones and run away from here_

_**** _

_As far from God as Heaven is wide_

******  
  
**

_\--Garbage, “As Heaven is Wide”_

********  
  


* * *

****

_Two Days After_

******  
  
**

"What have you done with the ship?" Kirk is amazed that his voice is so even, and he tries not to think about it.

****

"The ship?" Khan croons, "you're not asking about your dear Vulcan?"

****

Jim says nothing, his jaw clenched.

****

" _Your ship_ is fine. In fact, I'd say she's better than ever. Boldly going."

****

* * *

****

_Fifteen Days After_

******  
  
**

“How can I be sure he is still alive?”

****

Khan grins at the question, though the movement does not go beyond his mouth and even there appears aborted. The screen flashes away from Khan’s face and shows a ceiling’s view of a cell: tiny, dingy white, with a torn and bare mattress in one corner. Laid out on the mattress on his side is Jim Kirk. Even with his back to the camera, even tilted with his limbs akimbo in what is clearly not a comfortable or intentional position, Spock can tell it’s him. The camera’s quality is mediocre, but Spock can see dark red splotches on the back of Kirk’s neck, blue and green ones across his bare arms, yellow streaked with purple around his ankles.

****

“You have been mistreating him.” Spock’s voice is cold, and oh-so-calm.

****

“I’ve been treating him exactly the way he deserves to be treated. Unlike you, he often refuses to cooperate. I’m sure you understand.”

****

“I demand to speak with him.”

  
“Oh, I’m sure you do. This is all you get for today, however. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to wake him.”

****

“I have no evidence this video is current.”

****

“You’re a clever boy. Parse the video, you’ll get a timestamp. Even I can’t hide that from you.” Khan’s false-smile fades entirely. “You have your orders.”

****

The screen goes black.

 ******  
  
**

* * *

****

_Twenty Days After_

******  
  
**

Kirk wakes suddenly, his stomach lurching, pain ricocheting from one part of his body to the next. It takes him a few seconds to realize he is being dragged by a strap around his ankles down a long, metal corridor. Khan is pulling his weight effortlessly at a fast clip, careless of his unconscious limbs banging into corners or the burns beginning on his head and back from friction against the smooth floor.

****

Kirk reacts, twisting, attempting to pull himself up to grab onto the strap. Khan is moving too quickly, completely unaffected by Jim's struggles. Despite the cuffs, he scrabbles for purchase against the smooth floor, finally getting a moderate grip on the edge of a wall as Khan turns a corner. Their progress jerks to a stop.

****

"Let go." Khan sighs.

****

Kirk grits his teeth. Khan pulls.

****

Jim's fingers are yanked away, his grip faltering, and a fingernail tears. He grunts in pain as the nail snaps, and he sees blood dribbling lightly across the floor as he is pulled along once more.

****

"I can walk," he hisses.

****

"No," Khan says with forced patience, his steps perfectly even, "we tried that before. Remember how _that_ turned out?"

****

Jim's jaw remembers.

****

* * *

****

_Thirty Two Days After_

******  
  
**

“Why don’t you just kill me?” He’s asking because Khan’s taken to cuffing his wrists behind his back instead of in front--ever since he jumped on Khan’s back to try to strangle him, Jim supposes.

****

“I thought you were smarter than this, _Captain_. I need you alive.”

****

“What for? I gotta be a pain in your ass. More trouble than I'm worth.” He pulls experimentally at the cuffs, but they’re tight this time--tighter than usual. They hurt.

****

Khan makes a noncommittal grunt, his fingers eliciting jarringly happy chirps from the shuttle's console before him. “Spock won’t behave quite so well with you dead, I’m afraid, and I have plans for the Enterprise.”

****

Jim laughs, the sound brief and a little desperate, even to his own ears. “Spock? Listen to you? There’s no way Spock would--”

****

“Oh, but Captain, he already has. You have no idea how convincing you truly are.” There’s a pause, a small pensive sound deep in Khan’s throat. His fingers have stopped clacking on keys. His chair creaks as it turns to face Kirk, “In fact, I think I’ll leave that blindfold on for the video this week. It should make the Vulcan _crawl_.”

 ******  
  
**

* * *

****

_Forty One Days After_

******  
  
**

He remembers three years ago, asking Bones what Spock would do if Jim was in that stupid volcano on Nibiru and Spock was in command. _He'd let you die._

So much has changed for them both.

****

On paper, in speech, Kirk values the Enterprise and the mission more than Spock’s life. He says he’d send Spock to die if he had to. Most of him knows he would.

****

But only most. He tries not to think about the other part.

****

* * *

****

_Eighty Days After_

******  
  
**

It’s Khan’s favorite disruptor--Kirk can tell because of the size of the barrel--pressed against his cheek. It’s Khan’s favorite because of the size. It’s not much larger than a standard Federation phaser, about the size of a gun from back in the day when they had bullets. It’s very new and very advanced blah blah blah.

****

Khan is talking to someone, and Kirk knows the disruptor is only a reminder for him to keep quiet. Khan has never gagged him (not yet) but that might be because more and more these days Kirk refuses to eat and has very little left to say. He listens, though. He listens and waits.

****

Kirk hasn’t actually seen Khan in days. More and more it’s one of his lackeys that ‘handles’ Jim, and whenever he’s out of his cell anymore he’s in the blindfold and cuffs.

****

“What, Khan, you don’t trust me?” He’d asked, coyly.

****

Khan didn’t bother to reply.

****

Jim thinks Khan’s talking to Sanami, giving her instructions for a recon mission. Kirk is listening. He always listens. He’s not an idiot, and one day Khan will drop his guard.

  
Some day.

****

Maybe today.

****

Jim turns his head, slowly, and reaches out with his tongue until he finds the disruptor barrel. It tastes like salt and dirt, metal and sweat, other things he doesn’t want to think about. He licks, slowly, until Khan’s words grind to a halt.

****

Jim isn’t stupid. Before the blindfold, he saw the way Khan looked at him. He imagines the way Khan is looking at him now and draws the barrel into his mouth--oh so slowly. He hasn’t eaten in two days and his stomach still rebels, grinding to look for something to vomit up. Jim breathes through his nose, allows his tongue to be pushed painfully to the bottom of his mouth, and hollows out his cheeks. Tries not to think.

****

He knows what he looks like when he’s like this. He’s not stupid. He hears Khan breathing, hears Sanami stifle a giggle and back quickly out of the room.

Whatever room it is.

****

He’s almost glad for the blindfold. He doesn’t want to see Khan’s face. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s doing. He doesn’t want to be brought crashing back into a reality where he has to think about the _other_ repercussions for this action--even if it works and he escapes, this will follow him. Khan might use it against Spock. What if he finds out--

His _crew_.

****

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for his crew.

****

He slides his mouth further down the barrel, careful with the back of his throat, and hears Khan’s breath hitch. He smirks, lips barely managing to twist around the gun.

****

With no warning, Khan yanks the disruptor away. It clacks painfully against the back of Kirk’s teeth and across the inside of his mouth and he’s left doubled over, retching, for only a moment before Khan’s dragging him to his feet and down the hall.

****

Jim limps dazedly behind him--his ankle’s probably broken if it’s giving him this much trouble still--and then he’s in what is probably his cell again. Still cuffed and blindfolded, his mouth tasting like blood and pain and nausea. And a little satisfaction.

****

Jim will not be broken.

Khan will.

****

* * *

****

_Eighty Two Days After_

******  
  
**

“I’m looking for an excuse to kill your Captain.”

****

“You could release him.”

  
“I could, I suppose. He’s lost some of his charm.”

  
“What do you want, Khan? I have met all of your demands.”

****

“I want my crew! _All of them_.”

****

“You have been told multiple times that no member of the Enterprise has any information about the whereabouts of the remainder of your people.”

****

“And Vulcans never lie." Khan clucks his tongue, "I understand you’re not full Vulcan, Mister Spock.”

****

“It is no lie.”

****

“I’m sure.”

****

“I demand to speak with him.”

****

“No.” Khan ends the transmission almost before the syllable is out.

****

* * *

****

_Eighty Three Days After_

******  
  
**

Kirk hasn’t eaten for more days than he can count. Especially with the blindfold on, he’s lost all concept of time.

****

Sanami finally comes in, releases his cuffs and takes the blindfold off. She says nothing, and Jim’s not sure if he imagines the amusement in her face.

****

Everything is so bright. He has no energy left to think.

****

* * *

****

_Eighty Five Days After_

******  
  
**

"Look at me."

****

Kirk does not move.

****

"Look at me, _Captain_."

****

Khan grabs Jim by the chin and turns him roughly. Jim's eyes don't leave their spot on the ground until Khan slaps him--hard. Blue eyes snap up, ringed in red and hatred.

****

"You are not allowed to die. This willful sabotage of your body is unlike you."

****

"You can't stop me," Kirk hisses, "I won't let you use me like this."

****

"I can stop you, but I won't." He releases Kirk's face and stands, motions briefly to the door behind him. "I'll let Sanami do it."

****

He beckons her in. Her petite body and smiling black eyes belie a deadly strength matching--or surpassing--Khan's. A woman; tall, blonde and sharply muscled, enters with her. Kirk has never seen her before. Sanami has never brought backup before. She's carrying a plastic tube, an opaque white square container with a spout, and a handful of wide leather straps.

****

There is nowhere for Jim to go. He sneers at them and at Khan's back as he leaves.

****

"I know you prefer the hard way, Captain." Sanami says, taking the strap the blonde offers her. She approaches him confidently, her small black pigtails bobbing with each step. "If you want to do this the easy way instead, you'll rob Elíse here of her fun. She's been dying to meet you." Sanami reaches out to him, grabbing his chin much more gently than Khan had. Jim slaps her hand away.

****

"He's pretty to look at, Elíse, but he's such a pain in my ass." She grabs his arms roughly by the wrists and jerks him around, cinching them tight together behind his back. He kicks out at Elíse as he feels her grab his legs, but he hasn’t eaten in _so long_ and his body isn’t responding as he expects it to. The two of them are strong, so strong, and he’s out of breath by the time Elíse has his legs bound together at his ankles and just above his knees. Sanami throws him up against the wall, cracking the back of his skull against the plaster-coated metal and showing him stars. She sits on his legs and grabs his chin roughly in one hand, yanking his head back and forcing her fingers behind his jaw.

****

He grunts, resisting as best he can, and when she leans up over him to get better leverage, he spits in her face.

****

She laughs, the sound bright in the scuffling of Jim’s feet on the cement floor. She wipes the spittle off her face and moves her second hand to Kirk’s jaw.

****

“Ready, Elíse?”

****

“Ready, San-chan.”

****

Elíse steps right up next to Sanami, flexible plastic tube in one hand, and starts feeding it down Kirk’s throat as Sanami holds his jaw mercilessly open.

****

He gags, entire head burning as his air is cut off and the tube scrapes its way down his esophagus.  

****

* * *

****

_Ninety Days After_

******  
  
**

“How long are you going to continue this? How long are you going to keep Captain Kirk hostage?”

****

“As long as I need to, Mister Spock.”

****

“You have all your crew.”

****

“I know.”

****

* * *

****

_One Hundred and Forty Two Days After_

******  
  
**

“What’s this about?” Kirk hisses. He’s colder than hell. He feels like he’s never been this cold before, though as his mind flashes to Tarsus IV he realizes that might not be true. The table before him is laid out in the same way as it was then, only it’s metal instead of wood and much smaller. And Khan’s there, right where Kodos used to be.

****

There are two plates laid across from each other. Khan sits calmly at one and gestures to the other. Kirk stands, watching Khan instead of the steaming food. He doesn’t blink.

****

Sanami and another one of Khan’s crew, Sigmund, stand on either side of the only door--behind Jim.

****

“Spock has been dishonorably discharged from Starfleet.”

****

“Fuck you.”

****

“Look for yourself.”

****

He flicks on a PADD and pushes it across the table. It slides into a fork with a tiny chiming sound. Kirk stares at it, his hands crushing themselves into fists at his sides. The PADD’s screen shows a ‘play’ button.

****

“I can summarize it for you, if you like.” Khan’s voice is molasses. Sticky and sweet and ready to trap him. “Spock wouldn’t stop looking for you. He disobeyed the admiralty one too many times.”

****

Kirk swallows. Stares at the PADD. After a few breathless moments, Khan nods over Kirk’s shoulder. Sanami approaches from behind Jim, leans over him, making him jump. She catches him, one arm around his middle, and she licks where his shoulder meets his neck as she reaches past him to the PADD with her other hand.

****

She taps ‘Play’.

****

Uhura’s face shows up on the screen, beautiful and stoic and fierce and almost bored.

****

“The _Enterprise_ will not be communicating with you further,” She says calmly, “and there are multiple warrants out for your arrest. Any further contact will be considered an act of aggression. You are to turn yourself in to the nearest Federation outpost immediately. No terms will be negotiated.”

****

Khan’s voice, “then your precious Captain will be killed.”

****

“In that case, you will be charged with further counts of premeditated murder, kidnapping, and assault and battery. We will not negotiate, only demand his release and your unconditional surrender.”

****

She tilts her head, narrows her eyes at the camera.

****

“And you may call me _Captain_ Uhura.”

****

The video cuts out as Kirk’s knees buckle. But Sanami is there, smirking into his ear, and she guides him into the chair like a child.

****

“You now have no reason to attempt suicide. You are no longer suitable leverage. So you may as well join me for a meal.”

****

With dazed eyes he watches Khan eat.

****

* * *

****

_One Hundred Forty Nine Days After_

******  
  
**

He eats, slowly, cutting the food into impossibly tiny pieces and chewing each one for as long as he can. He watches Khan, doesn’t care if the food is poisoned. Doesn’t care what Khan’s motives are in taking off his cuffs and his blindfold and keeping his keepers’ hands off him for even a few minutes.

****

He eats so slowly. He remembers Kodos--the speech he gave, the second speech he gave to just Jim, alone, in his luxurious home. He remembers gorging himself on as much as he could grab and the sickness that followed.

****

Jim learns when he wants to.

****

* * *

****

_One Hundred Fifty Six Days After_

******  
  
**

Sometimes he doesn’t want to.

****

Today he tries to seduce Sanami, his shadow. She’s lovely in her way--sharp almond eyes and a tiny mouth that splits into a grin that’s no less vicious for its beauty. It’s work, but he looks at her with his baby-blues in the way he’s perfected since puberty. He asks about her life. They talk.

  
When he makes a move Sanami laughs. She can’t stop. And she calls Elíse to tell her. They're speaking over the comm in a language Jim doesn't understand, and then Elíse is there, laughing and headed for Kirk. She has a whip--an actual whip--in one hand and a crowbar in the other.

****

Today Kirk learns that Sanami is taken. The rainbow of bite marks on her collarbones should have given him a clue.

****

It was almost worth a shot.

****

* * *

****

_One Hundred Eighty Four Days After_

******  
  
**

Sanami sits sprawled sideways in an armchair, picking the dirt from under her fingernails with the point of a horrifyingly large knife.

****

He’d tried to overpower her just yesterday. He has the marks to prove it. He knows she’s mocking him.

It’s okay--it’s just business. It’s his job to escape, her job to stop him. She has all the advantages but Jim is never going to stop trying.

****

When he was given free reign of the ship twenty two days ago (except for the important bits, cut off by voice-activated, code-enforced metal doors), he went on a frenzy of exploring, poking, attacking, banging on things. When he pried a console off a wall he was beaten unconscious and tossed into his cell with the lights on maximum for four days.

  
Sanami knows she has the power here and she doesn’t mind showing it.

But it’s okay, because it’s her job.

****

* * *

****

_Two Hundred Nine Days After_

******  
  
**

He still limps, just a little.

****

Just when he started walking normally again after Khan broke his ankle (so, so long ago it’s another life entirely) Elíse had come to Sanami's "rescue" with her crowbar. The limp is certainly permanent now.

****

He’s become used to it. This new speed of life.

****

* * *

****

_Two Hundred Twenty One Days After_

******  
  
**

He’s being dragged down the corridor again, blood in his mouth. His jaw aches where he’s been struck, his ankles twist and twinge uncomfortably in the leather strap as Khan pulls him at a painful clip back to his cell.

****

He became complacent, he became… he promises he will never do it again. He thinks he’s babbling. _Please please please._

****

He has no idea what he’s asking for.

****

When they arrive at his cell, Elíse isn’t there. Sanami isn’t there. He doesn’t know what to expect until Khan, leaving Jim’s ankles bound by the strap, throws him against the wall.

****

Everything hurts. It’ll hurt even more soon, he knows.

****

* * *

****

_Two Hundred Forty Days After_

******  
  
**

He sleeps most of the time.

****

* * *

****

_Two Hundred Fifty Five Days After_

******  
  
**

Sanami comes into his cell with a wide leather roll, unravels it with the biggest grin on her face he’s ever seen. He can’t help himself, he tries to scoot backwards--the wall greets him instead.

****

She unrolls it with a flourish to reveal an impressive collection of knives. Kirk recognizes Klingon and Romulan origins, and there’s one of a glinting greenish metal he’s never seen before.

****

“Do you like them?” She asks, coyly. She pulls out the greenish one. It has tiny, tiny serrations along the edge. “Khan gave me this one. It’s a rare metal from Andor. It leaves ions in the cut that burn for hours. It has its uses.”

****

Kirk doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until she puts it away.

****

She draws another.

****

“It’s a shame Khan says your pretty face is off-limits.”

****

* * *

****

_Two Hundred Ninety Days After_

******  
  
**

Jim laughs.

Really laughs.

He catches himself as the sound sticks strangely in his throat.

****

Khan smirks over his fork full of dripping steak.

****

* * *

****

_Two Hundred Ninety Nine Days After_

******  
  
**

Khan’s fist connects with Kirk’s face again, and by now he’s trying to crawl away.

There’s nowhere to go. He can’t see for the blood and the pain.

****

“No, Khan, please. _Khan_.”

****

“There it is.” Khan stands straight, his face blank. He cracks his knuckles and his neck at the same time, the blood smearing across his hands. He kicks Jim in the ribs one more time for good measure. “That’s what I was looking for.”

****

“Why are you doing this?”

****

“To remind you.” He kicks again, Kirk curls, impossibly, further in on himself. “You do not live here. You are barely a hostage--leverage against a ship and a crew that no longer considers you part of them. Tell me, _Captain_ , do you still dream of them? Or is it my face that you see when you close your eyes?”

****

* * *

****

_Three Hundred Fourteen Days After_

******  
  
**

He plays cards with Sanami. A game she calls ‘war’. It’s stupidly simple, but a great way to keep his mind off of certain things. Like how much Chekov and Scotty would have liked it. How much he’d like to teach it to them.

****

He keeps looking over his shoulder for Khan--Khan and the split knuckles of his fist. He should stop. The swelling around Jim’s eye makes it hard enough to see as it is.

****

* * *

****

_Three Hundred Twenty Two Days After_

******  
  
**

Something explodes. He feels it more than hears it--the walls of his cell are thick, but the rumble echoes in his chest.

****

He doesn’t bother to stand up. Khan is either coming or he isn’t.

****

* * *

 


	2. Into the Void

**PART TWO:**

_Into the Void_

****

_Tried to save a place from the cuts and the scratches_

_Tried to overcome the complications and the catches_

_Nothing ever grows and the sun doesn't shine all day_

_**** _

_I tried to save myself_

_But myself keeps slipping away…_

_**** _

_\--Nine Inch Nails, “Into the Void”_

****

* * *

****

_Reset_

******  
**  


“Spock, no, Spock. Spock!” The Vulcan’s grip is firm and gentle on Jim’s upper arm as he shoves him behind Spock’s body. “Don’t kill her.”

****

Spock turns, his eyes glinting only malice. “Give me one reason why I should not kill her for what she has done to you.”

****

Kirk looks blankly at Sanami, sprawled supine on the ground in the corner of Jim’s tiny cell, breathing heavily and holding her hand tight against her side where a rapidly-growing puddle of blood seeps between her fingers. Her enraged grimace would kill if it could.

****

Kirk’s fingers are white on Spock’s wrist. “She’s… she’s not always like this. She loves strawberries. She had a dog once, Inuki. It was put down when she was arrested in 1999. She has a lover named Elíse. She likes to take it, too, she’s not always so--” He’s interrupted by Spock’s hand on his chin, tilting his face to inspect his rapidly-swelling eye. The growing bruise on his cheek. The touch is so gentle, but Jim flinches out of it instinctively. “Please.” His voice is pathetic and he hates it.

****

“Jim, you--” Spock swallows, takes a moment to look Kirk in the eyes. He nods, once.

****

Spock moves away and rapidly ties Sanami in the dirty leather straps that were used on so often on Kirk. Jim watches, shivering, and can’t break his eyes away from hers. She struggles, of course, kicks out and connects a boot with Spock’s chest, but Spock is stronger now that she’s been injured and he has her tied efficiently soon enough. There are sounds of phaser fire and shouting outside the door, countering the scuffling and hissing in front of him. There’s another explosion somewhere on the other side of the ship, smaller this time.

****

“We are leaving. Jim.”

****

Jim turns away from Sanami’s angry, black eyes. Spock is suddenly at the door, holding it open, looking at him with such blatant concern it makes Jim sick.   

****

* * *

****

_Two Days After_

******  
**  


“What have you done with Khan?”

****

Jim hates sickbay. The smells, the sounds are so foreign. It’s too bright. Like a child, He pulls the covers over his head when he’s alone. His ankle aches deeply.

****

But for now Spock is here, and Jim no longer knows how to speak to him.

****

“What do you mean?”

****

“What do you mean what do I mean? Where’s Khan? Is he…”

  
“He is in prison. Maximum security. He is considered a high escape risk and has been confined accordingly. You are safe.”

****

Jim doesn’t know what he meant, but that wasn’t it.

****

Sickbay hums, alive.

****

“I can’t be in here anymore. Spock. Please.” He’s looking at the ground. He’s too tired to care. “I want to go home. I want to be in my own bed.”

****

There are too many beats of silence.

****

“I will speak with Doctor McCoy.”  

****

* * *

****

_Three Days After_

******  
**  


He can’t sleep. This bed is not his bed anymore.

It feels like a trap.

****

His chest is too small. There’s a grenade inside, the pin pulled long ago.

******  
**  


* * *

****

_Six Days After_

******  
**  


“When do I get to go back on duty?”

****

“Are you out of your tiny blonde mind? I haven’t released you from sickbay.”

  
“Yes you have.”

****

“Only barely. Technically.”

****

“So. When can I go back?”

****

Bones’ voice drops, and Jim knows he’s not joking anymore. “You were gone a year, Jim. Spock is Captain now. To be honest, I don’t know what any of this looks like as far as chain of command goes.”

****

“It was clever of him, faking his discharge from Starfleet. Khan believed it.”

****

“He’s a clever bastard, gotta say that for him.”

****

Jim’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Bones’ face. “I guess I’d better look into what my position is now.” He stands up.

****

“Aww, kid, come on. Don’t give me that look.”

****

“What look?”

****

“That one. God.” He slaps his forehead. “Fine. I’ll help you get your command back. I’ll make a few calls. Jesus.”

****

* * *

****

_Ten Days After_

******  
**  


“What do you mean you’re not pressing charges?”

****

“I mean I’m not pressing charges, Bones.”

****

“The man imprisons and tortures you for a year and you’re not pressing charges?”

****

“How many times do I have to say it?”

****

“As many times as it takes for you to get it through your thick skull that it isn’t an option!”

****

“I know my rights.”

****

“Do you? Like the right to not get abducted and tortured for--wait for it--a _motherfucking year_? What would you say if this had happened to anyone else? To Chekov? To Spock?”

****

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

****

“Good, because it shouldn’t even be a conversation. Don’t make me drag your ass back to sickbay.”

****

“Get out.”

 

* * *

****

_Eleven Days After_

******  
**  


“Would you like a game of chess?”

****

“You don’t have to babysit me, Spock.”

****

“You are not a child.”

****

“Exactly, so stop treating me like one.”

****

“That is not my intent. I only wish to share your company. I have… I have missed you greatly.”

****

Jim sighs. He runs his hand through his hair but he lets it gets stuck halfway through so his arm is covering his face.

****

“Yeah, okay.”

****

* * *

****

_Fourteen Days After_

******  
**  


They’re playing chess in his room again. Jim is hesitant to admit he likes it, and he’s not sure quite why. He keeps looking up at Spock and waiting for something.

****

A communicator chirps, “ _Captain?_ ”

****

Kirk flinches, drops his rook.

Spock responds to the hail, a tiny frown evident on his blank, blank face. The exchange is brief, whatever it is, and one-sided. Spock says only “Acknowledged.” before he puts the communicator away.

****

“Jim, I will return to finish our game once the bridge is secured.”

****

“Don’t bother. You were gonna win anyway. Besides, they need you more than I do.”

****

Spock nods once, that tiny frown apparently stuck on his face.

Jim sighs. It’s small. Relieved.

****

* * *

****

_Seventeen Days After_

******  
**  


He comes out of surgery a little stupefied. He can’t feel his right leg at all anymore and he barely acknowledges this beyond a thought that it is the next logical progression of Khan’s meticulous violence.

  
He’s so tired.

****

He doesn’t remember he’s just had his twice-broken ankle repaired until he wakes for the third time, many hours later.

****

* * *

****

_Twenty Three Days After_

******  
**  


It’s the first time he’s taken a meal in the cafeteria since he returned to the Enterprise. It isn’t crowded and no one’s touching him, but he still feels the press of bodies on every side. Everything is noise. The room is absurdly bright. Surrounding conversations are susurrations, the sound of waves, a language he’s never spoken. He can’t understand them. He’s a little afraid to try.

****

Then he sees Spock. Spock is sitting alone at the head of a table, doing his Spock-like smile at Jim as he sees him approach with his tray.

****

Spock is sitting alone at the head of a table, smiling-not-smiling, and it’s suddenly too much for Jim. He sees Kodos, he sees Khan.

****

He sees Spock sitting alone at the head of a table. His throat closes. His stomach seizes.

****

The ship is far too small for both of them, much less all these people. He can’t breathe. The exit is so, so far away and time is running out. His mind is oatmeal, a puddle of pale mulch, and his heart is going to explode sending shrapnel through his chest.

Jim can’t do this.

He is going to die.

****

“I’m sorry, Spock. I can’t. _I can’t_.”

****

The tray is on the table and Jim is gone. He feels sick. Sick to the stomach, sick in his brain. He’s never said that before--“I can’t”--and it plagues him. What kind of _Captain_ is he now? What kind of Captain will he ever be again?

****

He spends most of a year with Khan and it’s the cafeteria that finally ruins him.

Only broken people run away from _lunch_.

****

* * *

****

_Twenty Four Days After_

******  
**  


He thinks he’s hungry--the thought flits by as idly as it’s supposed to--but this time it snags somewhere. His heart races.

He decides to skip lunch today.

****

* * *

****

_Thirty Days After_

__******  
**  


“When are you going to clear me for duty?”

****

“When you aren’t sick anymore.”

****

“C’mon, I’m not sick.”

****

“Step on the scale, then.”

****

“Very funny.”

****

“I’m not laughing. You haven’t gained weight at all since you came back. That’s something that happens to sick people.” Bones’ voice is falsely patient. It rings across an empty sickbay.

****

“Skinny people can captain starships.”

****

“And many do. You, however, aren’t just skinny. And you still haven’t spoken to anyone about what Khan did to you.”

****

“It’s over. What is there to talk about?”

****

“Why you’re not eating, for one.”  

****

“Nothing to do with command skills.”

****

“I disagree.” He sounds snide. It hurts. “And bully for me it’s my decision as CMO.”

****

* * *

****

_Thirty One Days After_

******  
**  


“Jim, why are you still limping? Your ankle should have been fully repaired and healed for a while now.”

****

“I’m not limping.”

****

Bones and Spock _look_ at each other.

****

“Fuck you both. I’m not fucking limping.”

****

“Whatever you say, kid.”

****

* * *

****

_Thirty Eight Days After_

******  
**  


He haunts the bridge. Uhura keeps sneaking him weird looks, but this is the bridge and Kirk refuses to be put off by it. This is his _home_ , damnit.

****

Sulu and Chekov oblige him shamelessly, pulling him in on their trajectory calculations and their debates about what was or wasn’t invented in Russia. It feels rusty, and his repartee feels forced, but it gets easier each time. He’s grateful. He needs this.

****

Then Spock or Bones enters and drags him away, sometimes more forcibly than others, sometimes less silently than others, and playtime is over.

****

“You’re on leave, Jim. That means _leave_ ” or “Captain, your presence is not required on the bridge at this time.”

****

Then it’s back to silence and the echo between his ears and far, far too much thinking for his own good.

****

* * *

****

_Fifty Four Days After_

******  
**  


“What do you mean you aren’t testifying?”

****

“Didn’t we have this conversation before? I’m having serious deja vu right now.”

****

“We’re having this conversation now. For the first time. Because _somebody_ didn’t tell me they were refusing to testify in their kidnapper’s trial.”

****

“Whatever. I said I wasn’t pressing charges, so I’m not even sure how there’s a case to testify _in._ ”

****

“You may not care about yourself at all, but luckily as a member of Starfleet you’re technically property of the Federation. And _they_ care quite a bit about what Khan did to you and to the ship. They pressed charges on your behalf.”

‘ _Idiot_ ’ went unsaid.

****

“I still don’t see how this means I have to testify.”

****

Bones growls in frustration, runs one hand through his hair, and turns away from Kirk. Jim is looking blandly at him, surging with forced calm. Finally, suddenly, McCoy turns and grabs Jim by both of his shoulders.

****

“Kid, I love you. You have to stop this.” Jim opens his mouth. McCoy shakes him lightly, “and don’t say ‘stop what?’ you precocious twat. You know full well what I’m getting at. I need to know why you’re sabotaging yourself. And before you respond, I need to know why you’re sabotaging yourself _before I can conscientiously recommend you to resume command._ ”

****

Jim’s eyes narrow. He bats away McCoy’s hands. Glaring, his voice is low, dangerous. “Bones.”

****

“I have to! To get _anything_ out of you these days I have to smack you like a newborn baby. Obviously not literally--god, I’ve been hanging around Spock for too long. Look. Jim. _Look at me._ ”

****

Jim does.

****

“Testify. For you. For _me_.”

****

Jim looks him straight in the eye when he says “No.”

****

* * *

****

_Sixty Two Days After_

******  
**  


He should be used to having too much time on his hands--when he closes his eyes he still sees that tiny, dingy white cell--but he isn’t. Everything still feels a little like a dream, like he’s going to turn around and wake up in a puddle of his own blood and saliva with Khan’s laughter ringing in his ears.

****

The gym is the perfect place. Even in the middle of the night when he’s alone there’s enough noise, enough pain, to feel real. The hot burn of his worn-out limbs matches the slow burn of his stomach and brings him just enough peace to make it to the next day.

****

* * *

****

_Sixty Three Days After_

******  
**  


And the next.

****

* * *

****

_Sixty Four Days After_

******  
**  


Today he can’t eat. He can’t leave his cabin. He ignores his communicator. He tries--and fails--not to cry.

He has failed his crew this past year. If only he had tried harder, if only he had worked more to escape, if only he had fought more.

****

He could have done so much more. He failed.

****

* * *

******  
**  


_Eighty Eight Days After_

******  
**  


He gets drunk. He gets drunk and he’s drooling, sort of, on Spock’s shirt and he’s running one finger up and down Spock’s arm and _Spock’s allowing it to happen_ and Jim’s not sure what this moment means, if anything.

****

It means something, he realizes, when Spock says, “Why will you not testify against Khan, Jim?”

And Jim actually tells him, “Because I’m no better than he is. Because I’d have done the same thing to get my crew back. Because I would do more, I’d do worse, to get you back.”

****

The patient hand in his hair feels nicer than anything he’s ever felt in his entire life. He aches with it.

****

But Spock doesn’t contradict him.

****

* * *

 


	3. What This Really Is

* * *

**PART THREE**

_What This Really Is_

__**  
  
  
**

_Something's changed in your face I notice_

_A different sparkle in those crazy eyes_

_Your unmistakable charade I know it_

_Always tricks me every time_

_A million tears, a trillion times_

_I've seen that gaze and that glitch in your eyes_

__

_\--Crosses, “This is a Trick”_

**  
  
  
**

* * *

**_The Trial_ **

* * *

The media isn’t permitted inside so they buzz around the door, they swarm against the car as Spock, Bones and Jim pull up to the courthouse. For a few delirious minutes Jim feels like he’s the one on trial as he’s escorted by Spock and Bones--their hands fiercely protective--up the steps and through the press of journalists.

He can barely hear their questions through the desperate, empty ringing in his ears. He can hear Bones muttering something impolitic in one ear and Spock calmly saying, “the Captain will not be taking any questions at this time” in the other.

_The Captain._ He winces. He hasn’t been a real Captain in over a year. Only Khan calls him that, now.

* * *

Inside, the courthouse is quiet as a funeral. Everyone is whispering, tragic. Jim can only see so many understanding nods before he has to look away.

* * *

Jim has to be there. He’s been ordered.

The courthouse is surprisingly busy for a closed trial. Bones sticks to him more than usual, is more obnoxious than usual, and can’t seem to keep either his hands or his tricorder off him. Jim feels like he’s batting away flies and the results are equally ineffective.

Spock is nearly as bad, but not quite. Less handsy, but somehow shoots even more glares at perfectly-innocent bystanders.

Jim’s dress uniform chokes him. He keeps trying to adjust the collar.

* * *

Settling into his chair next to Spock--Bones is gone, he has professional witness testimony later and has to wait in another room--he hears some conversation behind him. He doesn’t know who’s talking, only recognizes their uniforms as those of high-ranking officers.

“Why is this even going to trial anyway? Shouldn’t he be thrown back into prison?”

“He was dishonorably and criminally discharged from Starfleet. Technically he’s a civilian and afforded all the same rights as anyone else.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous.”

“No arguments here. No idea how they even found a jury for this charade.”

Spock keeps not-so-subtly looking at Jim out of the corners of his deep, dark eyes.

* * *

Khan is gorgeous. All pale angles and teeth, poise and rage and despair. If Jim noticed before he’d chosen to ignore it. Looking at him now across the courtroom he feels his mouth go dry. He looks for an exit.

He meets his eyes.

Khan smirks.

* * *

"...multiple contusions and lacerations, all of various ages. Six broken and poorly-healed ribs, a right ankle broken twice and left to heal without medical intervention...”

Bones points to a 3D hologram that Jim has never seen before but recognizes immediately. Even without any medical knowledge at all Jim recognizes the bent, twisted bone of his foot and the craggy lines in several ribs. A new layer forms over the silhouette of a human body to show red marks where his new scars are. He didn’t know he had so many.

“...severe scar tissue on the wrists and ankles indicate long term restraint use...”

Jim likes professional-Bones. He doesn’t see him very often. The voice is smooth, that tinge of an accent ubiquitous as always, but there’s that perpetual sneer that shows how he really feels about what he’s saying.

Jim risks a glance at Khan. His face is blank, his arms--sheathed in Romulan-grade restraints--hidden under the defendant’s desk. Every time Jim looks at him, Khan is always looking back.

* * *

Jim does not testify.

* * *

“This jury finds the defendant guilty of all charges. Assault and battery in the first degree, kidnapping in the first degree, torture, extortion, and conspiracy to commit murder.”

Jim doesn’t know what he feels, but it isn’t relieved.

Khan is led away, the tight manacles--chained to his wrists, ankles and each other--make a low metallic clank that causes Jim’s stomach to twist.

* * *

“Congratulations, Kirk.” It’s an admiral Jim barely knows. Her face, lined and bunched around the eyes, is surprisingly kind. “Your eligibility to resume command is under review. The testimony from the trial should help speed up the process a bit, and I know Captain Spock has offered to speak to the review board personally on your behalf. You shouldn’t have to wait for the results for too much longer. I know this has been hard for you, and I sincerely wish you the best.” She smiles, claps him on the shoulder much harder than Jim expects, and walks away with another admiral who has been waiting for her politely off to one side.

Spock slides up in that stealthy way of his and stands, quietly, by his side.

* * *

_**These are the Voyages** _

* * *

_One Hundred Twelve Days After_

**  
  
**

The chair is comfortable--more comfortable than he remembers. This feels right in ways he’ll never be able to explain.

The stars are out tonight (it’s an old joke--in space they’re always out, see?) and Chekov and Sulu are looking at him with gleeful expectation.

This is it. This is what he has left. This will never be enough.

He’s ready to go.

* * *

  
**_The End_ **

* * *

* * *

**_Epilogue_ **

* * *

Khan is not usually afforded visitation rights. Jim has to pull in quite a few favors--and he’s young, he doesn’t have very many to call in.

But here he is, sitting before him, pale and poised as ever. The transparent aluminum between them will never be enough to make Jim comfortable here.

Jim taps the comm built into the glass first, though he has no idea what to say. He feels like he should ask _Why?_ but fears the answer.

“Do you see me when you dream?” Khan says finally, softly.

“Yes.”

Khan smiles.

* * *

 


End file.
